I despise the Silmarils. They have been praised and admired by all who have lain eyes on them - save me. In them I saw no beauty, only the end of an ancient peace and a terrible darkness.

I had feared it even before they were finished, when the light in his eyes burned with an intensity that no Elf should possess. It was then that I had first come to understand how he sapped his mother's strength so much she desired eternal death. It was then that I left, my heart trying to distance itself from the hurt I knew it would have to bear.

Yet all my fears could not prepare me for the reality, the day the fire and madness finally took him – the day Melkor stole them. For a brief moment I had been glad, hoping they were gone and that they could be forgotten, yet it lasted but seconds. With painful swiftness I knew that he regarded them too highly, that he would pursue them to whatever end.

It was with a heavy heart that I could only watch as all my nightmares came to life. As he swore the oath and then left, taking with him all my children. I knew then that I would never see any of them again.

For the sake of three jewels, all I ever loved was lost.

I despise the Silmarils.

END